A Promise of Happiness
by almister12
Summary: Set 10 years in the future, Emma is visiting a cancer patient. Dedicated to a relative who is currently losing her battle to cancer.


_**A/N:** __Emma and the gang are in their early 40's. Trigger warning: death._

* * *

_**10 years later...**_

The old hospital smell filled her nose. Emma was in the cafeteria at Storybrooke's only hospital, buying a sole cup of coffee. "Here you go, ma'am," the young man behind the counter said to her as he gave her the coffee. "That will be $3.98."

Emma quickly tossed him a $5.00 and told him to keep the extra money as a tip. She walked through the double doors into the hospital's too-clean hallway and found her way to the elevator. She clicked the up button and waited until the "ding" signified that the door would open. The small box suddenly became silent, and everyone's smiles \quickly wiped away from their faces. Emma took two steps in, the elevator suddenly becoming silent, with a few townspeople stepping aside to make room for her. "Nine, please," she requested to Ashley Boyd, who was standing closest to the numbered buttons. She pushed in the nine while the elevator doors closed silently.

Nobody talked during the short elevator ride. The door opened again on two and six, and the people getting out on those levels looked like they were finally able to breath again as they stepped off. On eight, an older woman was waiting to go up that last level, but claimed she could use the stairs, instead.

Emma knew they were all avoiding her, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She had other things on her mind, more important things that made her heart ache whenever she thought about it. As the ride finally stopped on her floor, she grunted a short, "goodbye" to everyone and walked away from the other three people who were left.

Taking a left, the a right, then another left, she wound her way to room 903. Knocking three times, she opened the door and peeked her head in. The man in the bed had his head turned towards the window, eyes closed and taking shallow breaths. The hospital gown has been drowning him after he lost all the weight and his skin, so fair before, had a tinge of yellow to it. The blanket was shoved all the way up his body, only leaving his right arm out, yet he still seemed cold. Two bags were hanging by his bed, dripping clear liquids into a straw that hooked up to his elbow. On the bedside table was a lamp, a few cards, an uneaten lunch on a green tray, a picture of a family in a wooden frame, and a silver hook.

Emma sneaked her way in the room, closing the door behind her. As quietly as she could, she tiptoed around the bed until she could settle in the hard chair next to the window. She took a swig of her coffee, and looked at the man sleeping on the uncomfortable hospital bed. Emma tilted her head to the right as her mind traveled from one thought to another.

A small grin covered the face of the man in the bed who apparently was not asleep and, without opening his eyes, whispered, "What did you get?" His face fell again, attempting not to show the pain in his face, but she could still see it.

"Black with cream and sugar," was all she responded. "They don't have much of a selection here."

The man let out one chuckle. "You're too selective, Emma. This isn't Granny's." In the past few months, his voice had changed from a devilish deep voice to one that could barely be recognizable as his own. As if using all the effort he could muster, he opened his eyes to look at the girl sitting across from him. The deep blue eyes that she had looked at every day for the past twelve years shone just as bright as the day she met him, but there was weakness behind them.

"What can I say? I know what I like." Taking another sip, she pulled her chair closer to the man in the bed. "How are you feeling today?" He took a deep breath, looking like he regretting the decision immediately after doing so. He didn't respond to her question, and the new look that came over his eyes told her all she needed to know. "Worse than yesterday?" A slight nod. Emma's shoulders raised and retreated back down and put her hand on the bed. "I'm sorry."

Again, the man didn't respond. He lifted the one arm he had out of the blanket and put it on top of her's. "What are you apologizing for? This..." he looked around the hospital room, "is not your fault."

Emma blinked. "I just wish we could trade places, that's all." She looked down at his skin-and-bones hands and a sad grin grew across her face. "Liam made something for you. Would you like to see it?" He smiled while she reached down into her purse to grab the small piece of green construction paper and lifted it out. A house stood in the middle of the paper with five people drawn next to it. "He said this is you, this is me, Henry, him, and little Maggie is over there by the flowers," she pointed to each circle. "His teacher said that his fine motor skills have grown a lot in the last few weeks."

"I'm sure David will be excited to start teaching him how to use a sword." He said while grabbing the paper from her. Her grin dropped as she realized the man on the bed would not have the opportunity to be the one to teach him. He didn't seem to notice the change in her expression, though, and continued, "Did he tell you what this is in the corner?"

"No, but I think it might be a flying monkey. You have to stop filling his brain with all those stories," she joked before thinking. Her breath hitched as she realized what she had just said, knowing he wouldn't be able to much longer, but got back in a regular pattern when he laughed. Clearly, the previous comment didn't phase him at all.

"Henry helped tell the stories. It wasn't just me!" he responded.

Emma rolled her eyes as her phone buzzed. She grabbed it from her purse and read the text message while the man reached to put the drawing next to the other cards on his bedside table. "Henry wants to know if he, Liam, and Maggie can visit?" then paused as a second message came in. "Apparently mom, dad, Neal, and Daniel want to come, too." She looked up at him and saw that he was barely able to keep his eyes open as it was. "I'll tell them to come some other time."

As Emma started ferociously hitting her screen with that response, the man grabbed her arm. "Emma..." he said, softly. "I'm not stupid. I know there isn't going to be another time." She dropped her hand and looked back up at him, a tear welling in her left eye.

"What?"

"I can feel it. I just know." He brought his hand up to her face and wiped away the single tear. "Tell them to come." Before she was able to object, he continued. "I need to see them one last time." Emma started typing a response to Henry, about to lecture him that she thought this was a bad idea. Before she got a chance to, he dictated, "Remind him to put Maggie's booster seat in his car before coming. And to bring her stuffed alligator. Oh, and that Liam needs..."

"He's 22 now, not the 11 year old boy you met years ago." She looked back up at him, "But you're right. I do need to remind him about the alligator." Using every ounce of energy he had, he tried to sit up in his bed. After clicking send and noticing what he was trying to do, she suggested, "I think you should stay lying down." At his determined face, though, she helped him into a sitting position. He thanked her quietly, and scooted over to the edge of the bed closest to the window and, with his stump, patted the bed next to him.

Emma's eyes widened, knowing this was a bad idea, but stood up anyway and crossed the room. Using as much effort as she should give to not move the bed, she hopped up onto the bed and sat down next to him, her legs above the blanket, feet crossed at the edge. She gently leaned her head against his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her. She would do anything to stay in this position forever.

They sat in quiet for a moment before he began. "I don't want people to see me."

"I'll call Henry right now and tell everyone to go back home. Hopefully he hasn't even -"

"No, I mean at the ceremony. I don't want people to see me." He turned towards her. "I remember Neal's funeral, and how everyone could see him lying in the casket, but at Gepetto's, you couldn't see anything. I want that." He could see tears forming in her eyes again, but continued. "I want people to remember me before I got cancer. The handsome," he kissed her forehead, "well-built," kissed the same spot again, "pirate that everyone liked."

"Okay. Closed casket. I can do that." Emma choked out.

"I don't want to be buried with my hook." Emma raised an eyebrow, surprised by the request. "I want to be buried as the honorable man, not the revengeful, sick man I was for 300 years."

"No hook."

"I think I want to be in my red vest. What do you think?" he asked, closing his eyes again, but waiting for an answer. "You always liked the red one."

Emma nodded. "That one was the one you wore in our trip to the past. I can find it, wherever it ended up."

"Can Blue lead the ceremony?" Emma put her hand on his stomach and started rubbing it up and down and measuring if he could handle the physical contact. When it didn't seem to bother him, he continued, "And, I think I want Tink to say something. She is my oldest friend... And Dave. I want him to say something, too."

"I'll ask them if that time comes." His eyes shot open and turned his head towards the woman sitting next to him. He gave her a stern look. "Okay, okay. I'll make sure they say something."

"Thank you," he said, shutting his eyes again.

A soft knock came at the door as Mary Margaret, David, and Emma's two brothers came walking in. Neal, already 10 years old now, ran up to Emma and gave her a hug while his six-year-old brother, Daniel, held his mom's hand. "Neal, what did I just finish telling you in the car?"

Neal turned around, a puppy look covering his face as he walked back to his mother. David gave Emma a quick kiss on the forehead and walked to the other side of the bed to sit in the chair that she had just deserted. "How are the lads today, Dave?" he asked, finally opening his eyes again.

Emma's father smiled. "Excited for summer break. It's the last week of school for the year, and everything they plan to do over the summer is all that has come out of their lips for the past two months."

"Liam's the same." The man said back. "He can't wait to go to camp with Daniel in July."

"It's all he's been talking about, too." The two men continued talking as Mary Margaret motioned Emma towards the door, silently asking if they could have a private conversation.

"I'm going to go throw this away," Emma said. She kissed his left temple and carefully got off the bed.

Neal ran over to the bed's open spot. "Can I sit by him now? Please, please, please?"

Right as both Mary Margaret and David started saying, "No," the man patted the open spot. "I wouldn't have it any other way." He lifted up the blanket with his arm while Neal climbed up on the bed. David watches his son carefully to make sure he was not hurting the man.

"Go by Daddy, Daniel," Mary Margaret pushed him towards her husband. He scooted over to him, and sat on one leg while David started up a conversation again. Mary Margaret and Emma then exited the room.

"How is he?" she asked. Emma just shook her head, tears finally escaping her eyes. "I'm so sorry, honey." Mary Margaret took her crying daughter into a tight hug and stood with her in the hallway, stroking her hair.

"He's started to plan his funeral," she sobbed into her mother's shoulder, gripping her as if she was the only way Emma could stay standing. "Why has he given up, Mom?"

"I don't think he's given up, Emma. He's embracing what he's been faced against. It's what makes him such a strong person, one perfect for you." When she still clung to her, Mary Margaret continued. "It has been three years since the diagnosis, and he isn't getting better. Sometimes, there's nothing we can do."

"Liam is only five, and Maggie only three. How am I supposed to watch them grow up without him?" she hiccuped in response to her crying. "And Henry is just starting his life. He needs guidance, and more than just what Regina and I can give him."

"You're forgetting about your father, sweetie. He's not going anywhere soon. You know he'd help any of his grandchildren without a bat of an eye."

Emma pulled away from her mother to look at her straight on. Emma's face was entirely red, eyes pink and swelled from crying, nose dripping. She knew it was selfish between everything going on, but the words came out anyway. "What am I supposed to do, mom? I love him so much."

Mary Margaret swayed her head and placed a hand on both of her cheeks. "And you always will."

Suddenly, Emma heard the squeaks of two pairs of tennis shoes, and a man much too old to be racing a five year old yell, "I'm going to beat you!"

"Faster!" Maggie said as her three children rounded the corner. Maggie was piggyback on Henry as he and Liam ran down the last hallway towards Emma and Mary Margaret. Swiping away the tears that may have been left on her face, she turned to them just in time to see them stop in front of her.

"Where's Ally?" Emma asked where the alligator was as Henry put Maggie down.

Henry, looking into Maggie's empty arms, let out a long breath. "I guess I forgot her at home..." Emma gave him a stern look as she crossed over to fix Liam's shirt

Frustrated at her oldest son, she said, "Go on in. Neal and Daniel are here, too, and I think they'll be excited to see you." At that, Liam ran in to see his best friend, Maggie toddling after her and Henry giving a quick hug and kiss to his grandmother and mother before following them into the room. Emma turned back to Mary Margaret, "They're so young..."

"They'll get through it, just like you will, and it will only show how much strength there is in the Charming family." Turning her towards the door, Mary Margaret put her hand on Emma's shoulder and started to walk through the frame back into the man's room.

Conversations were ablaze throughout the whole room. The three grown men sat by the bed, with a little 10 year old still sitting in the man's arms, telling stories of the "good ol' days" while the three younger kids sat in the corner, somehow finding a deck of cards and making up fake rules. Emma and Mary Margaret sat in two chairs by the doorway. Emma looked around at her family, the sides of her cheeks raising and falling as she realized this could be the last time they were all together. Mary Margaret grabbed Emma's hand and held it in silence.

Dr. Whale came in after about a half hour. "Sorry, but I need everyone to leave except the patient and Emma." With that, everyone gave hugs and said goodbyes and walked out of the room. "Visiting hours are over." He walked away, closing the door behind him.

Slowly, Emma made her way back to the bed, standing next to him as he closed his eyes for the first time in a couple of hours. "Can you help me lie back down? That's better," he sighed as if he just finished a marathon after Emma assisted him. "I love your family."

Emma leaned down and kissed him softly. "They love you, too." She sat in the chair again, holding his hand in her left and brushing away some of the dark hair that had fallen over his face. The two people sat in silence for a long time, no sounds being made except for the man's painful moans every few breaths. Every sound made her stop breathing for a second, no relief coming.

"I love you so much, Emma," he panted, as if it was the most difficult thing to say. Emma's hand felt his hand's grip becoming weaker and weaker until it was limp in her had, breaths becoming farther and farther apart.

"You mean so much to me. I love you more than you could ever know." The man kept his eyes closed as she was talking.

"Please be happy," he said. "I need to know you're going to be happy."

Emma's heart was breaking before her very eyes. In this moment, she could never imagine being happy again. To think that her children would have to grow up without a father, that she herself would have to spend the rest of her life without him was too much to bear. "I promise, Killian. I will be happy again."

"That's all I need to hear," he said, lips curling into one last smile. The heart monitor was beeping slower and slower, until a dreaded high pitch came from the speaker and a straight line was on the screen.

A few nurses came into the room followed by Dr. Whale, feeling for a pulse and checking other vitals. Emma watched in horror as everything went down in slow motion. Suddenly, everyone stopped, and Dr. Whale proclaimed, "Time: 8:26 pm." He patted her back as she fell back into the chair, hands on her face as if to hide she was crying. "We'll give you a couple of minutes, Emma."

She looked at Killian, seeing no pain in his face anymore. She leaned in and gave his forehead one last kiss. "It'll take time, but I promise to be happy."


End file.
